


Say It. (That You Belong To Me.)

by Themadwomanwhoisunfortunatelylackingabox



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Dom/sub, Light BDSM, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Trust Kink, god look at all of this sin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-10 05:35:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7832368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Themadwomanwhoisunfortunatelylackingabox/pseuds/Themadwomanwhoisunfortunatelylackingabox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry Allen sank to his knees with a gasp and a sigh. “Have you missed me, darling?” Eobard crooned, pressing his thumb against Barry’s plush lips. “Have you missed this?”</p><p>PWP. Set after S2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say It. (That You Belong To Me.)

 

Barry Allen sank to his knees with a gasp and a sigh. “Have you missed me, darling?” Eobard crooned, pressing his thumb against Barry’s plush lips. “Have you missed this?”

Barry didn't speak. He didn’t always like to, when they played these games. It was easier for him. At least in the beginning, it was easier for him.

“Have they been treating you right, while I was gone?” He said, watching as Barry’s lips closed around his fingers. “Have you been taken care of?”

A keen sounded from somewhere in the back of Barry’s throat. He pressed himself up against him, shaking from the lone exertion of keeping himself upright.

“They haven’t been taking care of you, have they?” He tsked. His free hand tugged at Barry’s hair; Barry cried out around his fingers. “Sh, sh. Don’t worry anymore. I’m here to take care of you now. Give you everything you need.”

Just like that, Barry collapsed. All of the tension eased from his body. He leaned against Eobard’s leg like it was the only thing that was keeping him upright. 

“Eo,” he cried when Eobard pulled his fingers away. His voice was husky and begging. Eobard could already see that he was hard, and only from sucking on his fingers.

“Shush, baby. I know what you need.” If he were a worse man, he might have let Barry just suck him off; Barry would stay on his knees for as long as he could, letting Eobard fuck his pretty little mouth. If he were a worse man, he might make Barry beg for it; he might have Barry crawl over to him on his hands and knees and make him beg for Eobard to make him feel better again. “You need me to fuck you, don’t you? Fuck you until you can’t think about anything else.”

Barry moaned, words lost somewhere between _please_ and _yes._

_“_ On the bed, then, darling.” He hummed; Barry scrambled to meet his commands. He really was such a good sub. So obedient. “Spread your legs.”

He complied easily, effortlessly. At least Eobard’s absence had done some good for him; he had a horrible knack for disobeying orders, in the days heading up to Eobard’s disappearance. 

“Good boy, Barry.” As always, compliments made him flush teasingly bright red, made him turn his head to hide in pillows. “Ah, ah, none of that. I want to see you.” He pulled his face gently towards him, so close he could feel his breath. “Beautiful.”

He squirmed, of course, bright red and embarrassed. “Eobard,” He moaned, breathless, and reached a hand down his chest to grab himself. 

Eobard grabbed his wrist before he could. “Did I say that you could do that, Barry?”

If it was possible, he reddened even more than before. “N-no.”

“Are you supposed to do things I don’t tell you to do, Barry?”

“No.” His lips quivered like rose petals. Beautiful. 

“Then why did you do it, Barry?” He tugged at Barry’s hair, who bared his neck and moaned in response.

“I—I don’t know. I’m sorry.” His breathing was just a bit too heavy, he spoke a bit too quick. Eobard knew exactly what was wrong.

“Barry, Barry, Barry,” He said. “If you needed punishment, you should have just asked.”

He could hear it when the breath caught in Barry’s throat.

“On your hands and knees.”

Barry flipped himself over so that he was no longer facing Eobard; he let his back arch and his face rest amongst the pillows. Eobard trailed a hand from the small of his back to the curve of his ass. Beautiful.

“What did you do wrong, Barry?” He said, rubbing his soft skin. “You have to tell me.”

“I—I—um—” his hands fisted in the sheets. He couldn’t say it. 

Poor thing. “You didn’t take care of yourself while I was away, Barry. I specifically said that you had to.”

“I thought you were dead. You—I thought you were dead.”

“You weren’t thinking hard enough. Come on, Barry. Did you forget the will? Since Star Labs is seemingly still operating, you have to have watched it. You should have known that even if I was dead—which I wasn’t—I would have wanted you taken care of.” He let his free hand rest on the back of Barry’s neck. “So why didn’t you take care of yourself, Barry?”

“I couldn’t—I didn’t know how.” Barry turned around so that he was facing him, and pulled his knees up to his chest. “I don’t think anyone knew how. We—I—everyone needed you. I. I needed you. I needed you so badly, but you weren’t there. And I was supposed to hate you. And then—then Ronnie died, and it was because of me, because I wasn’t fast enough. And then Zoom came along, and Harry, and—”

“Barry,” Eobard sighed, pulling him into his arms. “Sh, shh. I’ve got you.” Barry’s breaths had dissolved into heaving sobs, uneven and heavy. “I’ve got you.”

“It was all my fault, Eobard,” he muttered into the crook of Eobard’s neck.

“It’s not your fault, Barry. It’s not.” Of course, Barry wouldn’t see it that way. He had a survivor’s guilt complex the size of Tennessee. “But if you feel the need, I can punish you for that. If you need that to get past this, I can do that for you.”

Barry let out a shaking breath. “You always know what I need.” he murmured, tightening his arms around him. “But not tonight, alright? Not tonight.”

“Of course, baby.” He hummed, running his hands through Barry’s hair. “Whatever you need.” So he pressed kisses into Barry’s hair as sobs shook through his body, and held him tight. 

Eventually, of course, the tears stopped, and Barry's body stilled. Eobard kissed away the lingering tears, and Barry settled against his shoulder.

“Better now?”

“Yeah.”

Eobard kissed him then, properly, on the lips. Kissed him until Barry’s lips parted in submission, and then he broke away. “What do you need, Barry. You have to tell me. What do you need?”

“I—” Barry had trouble getting the words out. He had never been good at asking for things. “I need to forget.”

“Okay. I can do that, darling.” Eobard kissed him, again, reveling in the fact that he could. “I’ll make you forget.”

All the tension fled from Barry’s body, leaving him limp in his arms. “You’ll take care of me?”

“I’ll take care of you.” Eobard smiled, a rare and tiny thing. “Lay back, spread your legs, there’s a good boy.”

He flushed, then, a faint pink tinging his cheeks and making his way down his neck. 

“Perfect,” he hummed, watching Barry fidget as he stared unabashed at his naked body. “Mine.”

Barry’s eyes were blown wide with lust. “Yes, yes, yours.” His breath was heavy, but it wasn’t because of tears. 

“Tell me, Barry,” He said, taking Barry’s thin wrists into his hands. “When you thought I was dead, did you let someone else touch you? Did they kiss you, Barry?” He dropped a kiss onto Barry’s palms. “Did they fuck you?”

“N-no.”

“Really? No one? Not a single person? You didn’t try to get Iris, or Cisco, or Hartley, to try and take care of you like I would?”

“N-no.” 

“Why not, Barry?” A smile made its way across his face. “You thought I was dead, after all.”

“I—I, um,” he stuttered, turning his head against a pillow. “I…I knew you wouldn’t approve.”

“But I was dead, Barry. Why would that matter to you?”

Barry turned, and met his eyes with an unflinching stare. “Why would you being dead make any difference? Even when you’re not there, I can’t…I…you’re always in my heart, you know that.” His breath caught. “Sometimes I don’t think that I’d ever be able to escape you.”

Eobard laughed. It wasn’t necessarily kind. “Barry, Barry, Barry. Like you’d ever want to escape me.”

“No.” Barry smiled, but there was sadness in it, too.“I never would. I belong to you.”

“And I belong to you.” Eobard said. “That’s the way it has always been. The way it will always be. The Flash and the Reverse Flash, forever.” 

“You and me, forever,” Barry echoed, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, Barry Allen.” They both knew he would never try. Eobard kissed him then. Barry tasted faintly of the speed force: electric and dangerous. 

Their kisses were a little like conquest: flesh yielding to flesh, a battle of heat and tongues and hands pulling at hair, all with one dominating force, all with one clear winner. He bit at Barry’s lip when they parted, strong enough to split the skin and taste the copper of his blood. Barry moaned when he did that, blood dripping from an already healing wound.

“You like that, don’t you? Like it when I mark you up.” He whispered into his ear, a little husky, a little dark. “You like it when you’re reminded who you belong to.”

“Yes,” he begged, eyes blown wide. “Yes, yes, _please_ , Eobard,” 

“Shh. I’ve got you, darling,” He whispered against the pale skin of Barry’s neck, nipping at the juncture of his shoulder and neck, and kissing it better. He sucked a hickey on the tender flesh underneath Barry’s ear, and he moaned and squirmed underneath him, but Eobard held him in place. “Perfect.” He said when he let go of him, admiring the purple bruise that was impossible to hide beneath collared shirts or the Flash’s cowl.“Beautiful.”

Barry’s breath hitched; he arched against him. “Eobard,” he pleaded, “Eo, please.”

“What do you need, Barry?” He whispered. “You have to tell me.”

“I need—I need—” Barry struggled for a minute, until Eobard rolled his hips wickedly against his, and Barry let out a strangled moan. “God damn it, Eobard, fuck me.”

He grinned. “Of course,” he said, grabbing lube from the nightstand drawer. “Tell me, Barry, are you going to be a good boy?

“Yes, yes, _yes,_ I promise I’ll be good.” He babbled like he always did when he dropped too far.He spread his legs further, and stared at Eobard’s hands like he wanted to grab them and make him move quicker. 

“Keep your hands on the headboard, Barry, can you do that for me? Or do I need to tie you up?” His mind ran through all the things he could improvise as a rope. If Barry kept his things, he had a red tie that would look so nice against Barry’s pale skin. If he didn’t, then Barry probably left a belt here at least, and if he tied it tight enough it would cut into Barry’s wrists and he would keen from the pressure.

Barry’s breath hitched. “I—I can be good. I can do that.” His fingers curled around the headboard, fidgeting so fast they might as well be vibrating.

Speaking of vibrating…He pushed a slick finger into him; Barry moaned and arched around it. He didn’t beg him for more. Not yet. A second finger was added not too long after the first, a little sooner than he expected he would need. “Have you done this by yourself, darling? Have you fingered yourself, wishing I was there to do it for you?”

“Y-yes,” he stuttered, somewhere between a keen and a moan. “I did, I did, you know I did.”

“Did you do this, too?” He vibrated his fingers, just a little bit. Softly. 

Barry shuddered, moaned, pressed himself impossibly closer. “Eo, Eo, god, please—”

The first time he had done this, it had been a bit of a pleasant surprise to see just how receptive Barry was. “Shush, Barry. You can only come when I tell you to.” 

Barry keened, bucking against him, and for a minute Eobard thought he might come like that: untouched and from the thought of Eobard commanding him.

“Is this good, Barry?” He whispered into his ear, slipping another finger into him. “Are you going to come like this, Barry? Do you want to come?”

“Y-yes, _yes_ ,” he babbled, coherent enough for words but not sentences. 

“Well, that’s a shame.” He smirked, just a little bit cruelly. “Because I’m just getting started.” He watched his fingers fuck in and out of him; he truly was beautiful like that. “Maybe I’ll take you, and then I’ll finger fuck you afterwords, and watch you come apart in my hands.”

Barry moaned, bucking his hips to search for friction but finding nothing. “Please, please, please, Eo.”

“Maybe I’ll take your pretty cock into my mouth, Barry, would you like that?” He hummed. “Or perhaps you’d like for me to not allow you to come unless you were sucking me off.” 

“Fuck, Eo, please,” Barry hissed. “Do _something_.”

“No, I think I’ll let you come from me, and me alone, Barry Allen. Untouched.” He thought, for a minute, of commanding Barry not to use the speed force, either; to make him lie still beneath him as Eobard controlled him on a primal level. They were speedsters, after all, and nothing got Barry off better than the thought of Eobard controlling his speed, too. Controlling Barry, at his basest form.

Alas, alas, it wasn’t meant to be. This night might have been about Barry, yes, but it was for Eobard, too. And there was nothing that Eobard liked better than the sight of Barry Allen, panting and writhing and vibrating in super speed as electricity jolted off of him, completely uncontrolled. Completely his.

He teased at Barry’s prostate with his fingers, reveling in the following arch of Barry’s back, the following keen. “Are you ready for me, Barry? Do you want me? Tell me you want me, Barry,” he said, and pulled his fingers out of him. 

“Eobard—Eobard, fuck, please—”

“Tell me what you need, Barry,” 

“Eobard, god, please—” he said, blushing bright red. “Fuck me.”

“Gladly, darling.” He smiled, and kissed Barry’s cherry-red lips. He tasted like electricity and ozone, and faintly of spearmint toothpaste. All things pleasant, all things his. He knelt between his legs, and considered kissing him there, too; considered toying at him with his tongue, fucking him with it, until he was no more coherent than jello. But no, alas; Barry had asked Eobard to fuck him. And what Barry asked for, Barry received. 

He thrust. 

In less than a second, Barry went from quivering underneath him, to sitting in his lap and wrapping his arms around his neck. “God, god, _fuck_ ,” he whispered, breathy and hot against his ear. “Eo, oh my god, I missed you—I missed you so _much_.” His voice broke, and his fingers scrambled to tangle themselves in Eobard’s hair as they kissed.

Eobard almost didn’t have the heart to tell him that he disobeyed. Almost. “Barry,” he growled, pulling him back by the hair. “Hands, Barry.”

Immediately, Barry reddened, and slouched. “R-right, right, sorry.” His hands found their way back to the headboard.

“Do I need to tie you up?” He repeated, still thrusting into him.

“N-no,” he gasped. “I’ll—I’ll be good, please don’t stop. God, Eo, please don’t stop.” He pushed up his hips, searching for more friction, for a better angle, anything he could get. 

“I’m not sure, Barry,” Eobard rasped, even though he had no idea how he himself was still able to form words instead ofbeing half mad from desire, from the heat and the friction and the sound of Barry Allen’s moans. After all, It had been far, far too long since he had touched Barry Allen’s body, since he had last taken it and made it his own. “You haven’t had the best track record with obeying orders tonight.”

“I—I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Barry said, his hands going white-knuckled on the headboard.

“How do you plan on making that up to me?”

“What do you want?” Barry asked, dazed and immediate. So trusting. Truly, Eobard’s boy was such a gem. “I’m yours.”

“I know.” Eobard smiled. “You’ve always belonged to me.” He kissed him, then, soft and slow and teasing, but hot enough to make Barry writhe beneath him. He snapped his hips again, and watched Barry cry out. “You’ll always belong to me, won’t you, Barry.” It wasn’t a question.“Even after all I’ve done. Even though Iris West is yours for the taking. There is no one who you will belong to like you belong to me.” He smiled. It wasn’t necessarily kind. “Say that you’re mine, Barry.”

“Yours, yours, you know I am, god, please, Eo.” He writhed. “God, please, more.” He keened, high pitched and beautiful.

“You’ll never have anyone else.You’ll never love anyone else. There will only be you and me, forever.” He growled, tangling one hand in Barry’s hair and pulling. He fought back images of the other Flash. The one who had never been his and never would. The one who despised him. The one who—

“Eo,” Barry said, like a prayer, or a beg. His eyes met his, blown and wanting. 

—was absolutely nothing, compared to this version of himself.

“Eo, eo, please, let me touch you,” he begged,canting his hips upward with each thrust. “Please.” 

“Not yet.” Barry was still far too coherent for Eobard's taste. “I gave you an order and I expect you to obey.” 

Barry made a frustrated noise and held tighter on to the bed frame, though Eobard could practically see the jolt of electricity that came from Barry being commanded. 

…jolt of electricity…

A wicked grin lit up Eobard’s face as he pressed Barry harder against the mattress. He had almost forgotten what Barry truly needed. He was fucking him slowly, like he used to back when he was pretending to be someone else, or when he wanted to make sure Barry wouldn't be hurt. No, Barry needed an entirely different plan tonight; Barry needed to be reminded that it was _him,_ not anybody else. Barry needed to be fucked so hard that he forgot everything but themselves, tethered together. He needed Eobard to lose control. He needed for them both to be lost in a world where nothing existed but the other. He needed speed.  

And what Barry needed, he received. 

So Eobard pressed Barry into the mattress, delighting in his shudder when he did, and let himself lose control.

It felt like rapture: Barry, beneath him, around him, keening and whining and vibrating deliciously, arching his back and crying out Eobard’s name. He could feel their connection through the speed force, strong and everlasting, reminding them that this was a forever sort of thing. That it was fate. That no force in the universe could possibly tear them apart.

Barry’s breath hitched beneath him; he thrust up against him almost frantically, begging wordlessly because he never could ask. 

“Come for me, Barry,” he whispered into his ear, too fast for any normal human to hear.“Let go.”

For a minute, everything stilled. Then, with a shuddering gasp, Barry pressed himself against him, and came. 

Eobard would not be far behind. He felt himself speed up, grow erratic, hold Barry’s hips so hard that there would be bruises.

“Eo,” Barry moaned into his ear, breathy and sated. “God, Eo, you’re so good to me. I’ve missed you so much. I needed you. Nobody else would be good enough, you know that,” he said. “I belong to you.” 

_I belong to you._

He bit down on the juncture between Barry’s neck and shoulder, hard enough to draw blood; hard enough to bruise, to mark, to claim, even with a speedster’s healing factor. He came.

Barry Allen burrowed himself further in his arms. “We’ll clean up when I wake you up. And I will be the one waking you up. With a blowjob,” he muttered, clinging to Eobard like this was the last time they’d be seeing each other. 

Eobard smiled, and ran a hand through Barry’s hair. They would always see each other again, even though Barry would try to say otherwise when he woke up. Barry would remember that he should hate Eobard, when he woke up. 

That was alright. Barry needed him, no matter if he liked to admit it or not. For now, Eobard had Barry Allen in his arms and he would never turn that aside.

They slept. For once, Barry didn’t dream. 

**Author's Note:**

> well. this is, um, this. Basically I got very fed up that there was only multiple orgasms instead of orgasm denial in this ship, and then decided to do a public service.


End file.
